has
advanced the quivering tip
of the visualpyramid
into Esemplastic Heraclitean Infinity.
With our floating
upright lyric (blue
and sparkling)
and plagiaristcommunism
(Trotskoid and betusked)
we burst through the indigo
(possibly of coal-tarred synthetic origin) lampshadeof the firmament, slog beyond,
abandonning the petty purple
(mauveine?) mortality of
the merelyindividual
to the bruised condition of a historical-non-historicallife.
Let spill the fire!
Sizzle. Drip.
Drip. Arrows, speak.